Snow Angel
by Kinoryo
Summary: When she was little, Hermione would write to Santa for her own Happily Ever After. Now she's getting her wish, only it's seven years since she wished it. OneShot


_Snow Angel: A Christmas Story_

By: Kinoryo 

Since Hermione Granger was a little girl, she would write Santa a letter every year. Every year she'd ask for toys and books. When she got older, around nine, once she'd read so many stories where the leading lady and leading man lived Happily Ever After, she started wanting her own Happily Ever After. So when it came time to write Santa a letter that year, she requested only one thing. She requested that she would someday have her own Happily Ever After. When her Christmas wish never came true, Hermione stopped believing in Santa. Little did she know, was that her Christmas wish would come true, just seven years after she wished it.

"Man, it's really coming down out there!" Ron Weasley stated quite obviously, looking out of the Gryffindor Common Room window at the onslaught of snow that clouded the sight of the setting sun. He looked over at his best friend, Harry.  
"We'll have to have a fight in it tomorrow after breakfast."

Harry had barely heard these words, but nodded just the same. He was looking at his other best friend across the common room. Hermione was curled up in a chair by the fire, a large book in her lap. She seemed to have gotten halfway through it. Harry looked closer and saw the weariness in Hermione's eyes. She looked so tired. Harry felt an overwhelming urge to walk over to her, snatch away her stupid book, and kiss her, but he didn't think she'd quite appreciate it.

"Hermione," he said. She didn't appear to have heard him.

"Hermione."

He head jerked out of its trance and she looked around for who had called. Harry got out of his seat next to Ron (who was now glaring at Dean, Ginny's new boyfriend) and took a seat on the couch across from her.

"It's Christmas Eve, Hermione. What are you doing reading a book?"

Hermione looked slightly offended.

"What, I'm not allowed to read books now?"

"What class are you reading it for?"

"Who ever said that just because I'm reading a book it's for a class-"

"What class, Hermione?"

"Arithmancy."

Harry looked triumphant for a moment. Hermione had gone red and propped her book up a little higher so he couldn't see how red she'd gone.

"Please put the book down," he begged her. Hermione shook her head.

"I really need to get this read, Harry!"

"Why!"

Hermione opened her mouth as if to answer, closed it, then opened it again and said,

"Why is not important."

This made Harry laugh. When Hermione resumed reading he grew sad again.

"I wish you wouldn't do this to yourself."  
Hermione blinked at him over the top of her book.

"Do **what** to myself?"

"I can see how tired you are. Don't you want to do something? Other than read?"

Hermione looked thoughtful.

"Well…"

"Harry, maybe we shouldn't do this!" Hermione murmured from underneath the invisibility cloak, peering cautiously around a corner.

"You're the one who wanted to do this!" he said indignantly. She grinned, something that she hadn't done much of late.

"I really should be reading-"

"Oh, not that stupid book again! If you mention it one more time, I promise you I'm going to burn it!"

"I don't see Filch, let's go," she said and they started down toward the Great Hall. They reached the bottom of the stairs and the skirted out the front doors quickly before the noise alerted someone that two teenagers were out after hours.

Once outside, Harry whipped off the cloak. It had stopped snowing for about an hour and the grounds of the school were covered in snow up past their ankles. Hermione flung out her arms and laughed at the night air, her breath hanging in front of her face like a ghost. Harry watched her, his cheeks tinged pink, as she turned to look at him.

"Well, let's go."

"Let's go where?"  
"Let's go have fun, silly!"

Harry hadn't yet replied to this when Hermione ducked down, made a small snowball, and threw it at Harry. It splattered in his face. He wiped it away with a gloved hand and glared at her.

"You asked for it."

Hermione squealed and ran away as Harry began to make a snowball of his own.

"Ugh," Harry grunted as he rolled the heavy snowball to a stop. Hermione stood next to the other two snowballs and was trying to heave one onto the other. Harry, panting, said, "Here, let me help you."

He walked over and the two of them pushed one of the snowballs onto the other. He turned to her.

"Now, help me with this one."

The two of them gripped the sides of the semi-round snowball and lifted it as high as they could to put it on the others. Once they'd accomplished this, they stood back and admired their work.

"He's wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed.

"He's leaning," Harry stated bluntly. Hermione screwed up her face.

"No he isn't!"

"Yes, he is! He's leaning that direction!" Harry pointed at the snowman. Hermione shrugged.

"I gathered some rocks while you were taking your time with that other snowball," Hermione said, holding out a handful of rocks.

"I wasn't 'taking my time', that snowball was heavy!"

"Here, why don't you go find some arms and a proper nose," Hermione said as she began to push the rocks into the snowman's "head" for eyes and a mouth. Harry grumbled as he collected two sticks for arms and looked all around for something that could work for a nose.

"Hermione, all I could find for a nose was this old pinecone."

Hermione shrugged and took it from him.

"It works. There," she said as she shoved his nose in place. Harry dug the sticks deep into the snowman's sides and stood back to look at their work.

"What are we going to name him?" Hermione asked.

"I like the name Bob," Harry said. Hermione laughed.

"Bob!"

"Yes, what you don't like Bob?" Harry asked, jokingly.

"I guess if you're serious, he can be Bob the Snowman."

"Bob the Lopsided Snowman," Harry corrected. Hermione laughed again.

"Bob the Lopsided Snowman with a pinecone for a nose."

"Oh, it's great!"

"I think it looks like an alligator if you ask me," Harry said, eyeing the snow angel that he had attempted. Hermione laughed.

"You just need to learn the proper snow angel technique!" she exclaimed. She smiled at him.

"Watch me," she said and she turned to face him. She then crouched down on the ground, and lay back into the snow. She looked up at him.

"Now, first you have to position yourself on the ground like a star," she said as she flung her arms out to her sides and he legs the same.

"Then you wave your arms up and down like so," she said as she demonstrated, "then your feet, make your legs touch when you do this so that the angel looks like it's wearing a robe and not pants."

Harry laughed. She was really quite the sight. She stopped flailing in the snow and looked up at him.

"Now, it's impossible to make a **perfect** angel, because there are always the handprints from where you had to push yourself up, but-"

She looked up at Harry. He had extended his hands toward her. She grinned and placed her gloved hands in his. He pulled her to her feet and she looked back down at the angel in the snow. She smiled.

"It's perfect."

She looked back at Harry who was looking at her very strangely. The moonlight shone off her face and Harry saw the little snowflakes that clung to her hair and eyelashes. Her cheeks were rosy pink with the winter's chill. He reached out a slow hand and touched it to her face.

"Perfect," he echoed. Hermione stood still as Harry closed the gap between them, and kissed her. Hermione smiled and kissed him back, putting her arms around his neck. Her Christmas wish had come true. He pulled back and whispered.

"You're my perfect snow angel, Hermione."

Hermione blinked, still smiling.

"And I love you," Harry added. Hermione's eyes grew wide, but her smile was even wider.

"I love you too, Harry."

They kissed once again and looked back down at the snow. Harry's "alligator" snow angel looked as if it was holding hands with Hermione's. Harry smiled. _That's the way it should be._

"Merry Christmas, Hermione."

"Merry Christmas, Harry."


End file.
